Getting A Clearer Image
by CyberShockwave
Summary: Companion piece to Citizen of the Sky. For something to have complete meaning, you must perceive every angle, understand every action, hear every argument. There wasn't just one Wing of Sand Island, one Demon of Razgriz.
1. -October 31st, 2010-

**AN: So here is the beginning of a series of one shots that go a little more in depth with different characters from Ace Combat 5. The chapters are dates the events take place, and each line, (the big one across the page) represents a change in character. The person who's perspective you are reading from is the bolded name after said line. These are short pieces, feels weird publishing them, like their incomplete, but they aren't meant to be meals. They're more like snacks that you have in between chapters of CotS. I don't know how often updates will be on this, and just a heads up, I might not have these chapters done chronologically. When I have an idea for a one shot, I'll write it, post it, and you can see where it's supposed to go. This first one takes place during Chapter 12 of CotS, Boots On The Ground And in The Air.  
**

**-October 31, 2010-**

* * *

**Hans 'Archer' Grimm**

"Lieutenant Davenport, have you seen the Captain?"

"What's so hard about Chopper? Everyone else calls me that, why can't you?"

"Sorry sir."

"And then the whole 'sir' thing. You know, Kid might let you get away with that, but we all want you to drop it."

"Sorry si-. Sorry."

"And quit being so apologetic all the time. It makes it harder to make fun of you." I sighed. Lieutenant Davenport may be my wingman, but we were two different sides of a coin when it came to 'hanging out' on the ground. The Captain and his wing mate though...

"Chopper," I began, making the conscious effort to use his call sign, even though it wasn't applicable in this situation. "Have you seen Captain Irving?"

"No," my wing mate responded. His face suddenly got a thoughtful look in it and I began to worry. Usually, any idea form this specific individual had a tendency to be... ill-conceived. "In fact, I haven't seen Kei in a while either..."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked him cautiously.

"You've seen how Nagase is always eyeballin' the Captain. That isn't just a 'I'm concerned for your well being,' look she sends him."

"The Captain wouldn't take advantage of Lieutenant Nagase's feelings like that," I told my wing mate. We had this conversation before. Four times, in fact. But it seemed 'Chopper' couldn't understand Captain Irving's self restraint. Or cluelessness. I preferred to think it was the latter, Lieutenant Davenport, the former.

"Tell you what," my wing mate said breaking the silence. "I bet today's the day."

"What day would that be?"

"Nagase tells him. Yeah, Nagase tells him and he finally realizes he feels the same way and they go off and-"

"Okay, let's stop you there and make this a bet," I interrupted. I didn't need to know how detailed Lieutenant Davenport's imagination could go into the highly private lives of others.

"There you go! There's that firmness I like to see!"

"I bet you a twenty and that fruit tin you stole that they aren't even with each other right now."

"How'd you know about the-"

"You seriously though you were discrete about that? 'Hur, I'm Chopper, nice to meet you. Look at my huge arms while I casually take your food, hur.'"

"First of all, my arms aren't huge, they're just above average. Secondly, that lady didn't need any more food, she was well on her way to Perrault sized. Third... you know what?! Screw the damn list! I don't sound like that!" The man said throwing his hands in the air. "Man, maybe you should stay like you were, you're too good at getting to me."

"Do we have a bet?" I asked, my wing mates antics putting a slight teasing tone behind my voice. One of the Lieutenant's large hands came to encapsulate one of mine.

"You're on," he said with a grin. "Now, how do we find out they confessed their affections for one another?"

"Well," I began thinking of a way that would work. "We could just ask. Captain Irving's pretty readable so if he's lying, we would be able to tell pretty easily. It'll just be a matter of finding him."

"Sounds like a plan. But looking for him is going to take forever. I mean, this whole place is almost done already," the Lieutenant said gesturing to the encampment the ground troops were finishing up. I temporarily thought of my brother. He was also a 'ground pounder,' as he called himself when we had the rare opportunity to speak. He was proud of me for making it to Lieutenant, even if it was under special circumstances. I was pulled from my musings when my wing mate spoke up again. "I've got an idea. We do something that will make the Captain come to us."

"As long as it doesn't get anyone in trouble," I told the man.

"Dude, you're like my mom," and with that, 'Chopper' began to walk off towards a group of soldiers.

* * *

**Kei 'Edge' Nagase**

Who goes after an F-4 in an A-10? Who does that? Someone who wants to die, that's who. Someone who doesn't see how important they are, how special they- Important. He's important. Important to the mission. That's the reason I got upset. Because If I- We. If we lost him, it would be hard, if not impossible, to replace him with someone as skilled and good looking- Skilled. Someone as skilled as him.

I sighed. Lying to yourself is hard work. Convincing yourself is near impossible. This isn't me, is it? Before I got assigned to this squadron, before I even came to Heierlark, I was self sufficient. I still am. I don't need someone in my life to make me feel like I have a purpose. I don't need a man to get ahead. I'm not like... that woman... I despise those kinds of people. So why do I feel this way about him? Why now? What makes it worse is that he's so easy to be comfortable with. I mean, I showed him my book! Sure, it had the sensitive stuff removed when I showed him it, but still, he knows it exists!

I paused in my walking as I noticed a more-or-less dry area on the ground. I'm not ready to head back yet, I'm still angry at him, I think. As I sit down and look toward where the sun will set, I begin to get lost in my thoughts. I'm back home with dad. We used to sit and watch the sun set every Sunday until mom called us back inside for some crazy meal she had planed for us that week. Those were the simple times. Thinking about it now, I need to send him another letter soon. The last one I had sent was before operation Whalebird, and that was over a month ago.

Someone began blundering through the tall grass around me, pulling me from my thoughts. I turned and looked around to see Caden walking but stop all the sudden and go all slack jawed. As I followed his gaze, I saw a large deer that had sneaked up on me. As I looked back at the surprised man, I begin to wonder if he's ever seen a deer before. The perfect line comes to my head to get him to break from his stupor.

"You look very contemplative."

* * *

**Alvin 'Chopper' Davenport**

"So it wasn't today,' I told Grimm, trying my best to keep the slight disappointment out of my voice. "That doesn't mean it's not going to happen."

"I never said it would never happen," Grimm called back from within the tent. "I just said that the Captain wouldn't take advantage of Lieutenant Nagase like that."

"But can you really call it 'taking advantage?' I mean, we both know it's what she wants." There was a heavy sigh from with in the tent as Grimm stepped out again.

"Lieutenant Daven- Chopper," Grimm corrected himself before I could get after him. He was getting better. "Why must we discuss the private lives of others when we are together?"

"Because you won't talk about your own!" I answered. Every time I tried to ask anything about Grimm's life, he would change the subject to something else. One time, I had meant to ask him about what his favorite food was growing up and somehow I walked away from that conversation learning about parallel universes and alternate realities. He's an elusive one.

"Did you know that there are some scientist who think that there is another world that is almost exactly like ours in every way except a few key ones? Think about it, another reality where the continents are a different shape, countries are a different name, but the people are just like you and me." I gave the young guy the best unamused scowl I could. Sure, maybe it's a _little_ interesting, but he's still avoiding the subject.

"They've been gone a long time," I said, ignoring the man's attempt at a change of topic. "I wonder if Kei really was mad enough to do something?" Grimm just sighed once again and came fully out of the tent.

"I'm sure they're fine," he said, giving in to talking about the Captain and Nagase. I heard some footsteps approaching our designated area and saw the two we had been speaking about come into view.

"There you two are!"

**AN: So let me know what you want to see! I'd love to hear what you guys would like a second perspective of and I'm sure you've got some lists so let me have them! Also, is this a good length or do you need more? I can put more in if you need it. Alright, till next time, stay awesome.**


	2. -September 24th, 2010-

**AN: So good thing about the lose update schedule is that as soon as I've got something done, it goes up! The language you see that looks like unused calculator symbols is Russian. I'm not going to translate it for you, but if you take the effort to decipher it yourself, you may have a few laughs. Use google translate and pull up that embedded keyboard. This is extra content after all and how much you enjoy it is up to you. This specific Chapter is in response to Major FuzzBear, who made me do some looking up of words of my own. Other suggestions for chapters are to come soon, so don't feel left out. This Chapter would take place during CotS chapter 3, Swing of Things. Enjoy!**

**-September 24, 2010-**

* * *

**Dmitri 'Classified' Redacted**

"This radio silence is дерьмо," I told my Reconnaissance Systems Operator behind me.

"You don't want to get caught by the Osean's, do you?" he responded. "Cause technically, we're still at peace. And after today's recon, I'd say it's going to stay that way." I heard him sigh before continuing. "Looks like Nastasya Obertas was right."

"Victor," I said in a scolding voice, "You know we only call her the 'Major!' No last names remember! If we get shot down, there's still the black box with everything we're saying. We can't let the Osean's know what's been done today."

"ты дебил," Victor mocked. "Don't you remember, they took that out for this mission precisely for that reason. We can say anything we want!" To prove his point he went on. "Майор имеет очень большие бонусные сумки!"

"VICTOR!" I shouted. "Just because you can do something doesn't mean you do it! Besides, what makes you think I want to know any of what goes on in that mind of yours?"

"I just wanted to say it once in my life!" he said with fake exacerbation.

"I'll let you say it all you want after we debrief each other, right now while it's still fresh."

"Really?" I sighed. If this was the only way to have Victor get work done, well... who am I kidding. You cant replace a friend like him.

"Да, really."

"Okay, so what should we discuss?"

"What did you see?"

"Really?"

"The basics, Victor. We start with the basics."

"Fine," he replied as if giving in to something pointless. "I saw the Basset Space center."

"And what was going on there?"

"Really? Dmitri, I understand thoroughness, but this-"

"Come on, just play along. Think of what it gets you," I teased. After a frustrated growl, Victor continued.

"I didn't see anything, contrary to what must've been false information that was fed to the agency about troop movements onto the Arkbird. Now that I think about it, that claim seems more and more outlandish. It's a good thing the Major recommended a fly over to confirm. Still feels wrong to be doing this to allies though."

"See this is good!" I told the man. "We're doing something pro- дерьмо!"I yelled out. "We've got a SAM launch!"

"What!" Victor yelled out. "Quick get us out of here! We can't be found out!"

"No?! Really?!" I said sarcastically as I applied full thrust lurching us back in our seats. If we could just tire the missile out, make it run out of fuel...

* * *

**Nastasya 'Major' Obertas**

"Major!" one of the young lieutenants in the room called out. "Osean radio chatter just spiked!" After a two second pause of him listening in he delivered the news I had been dreading for this entire operation. "They fired a SAM!"

"Нет..." I muttered knowing what would happen next.

"You see, Obertas? I told you they were hiding something." I looked over at the other head in the department, his eyes furrowed in joy even at the news of the missile making impact. "What are they doing now?" the man asked greedily.

"Scrambling a squadron from Sand Island," the Lieutenant replied. For a moment, my heart went still and mind went blank. Bartlett.

"Wait for them to approach the plane. I want to see their intentions before we do anything brash," I told the Colonel at the front of the room listening to all that was going on.

"By then it will be to late to do anything!" the man next to me called out in vehemence. "Launch one of our squadrons to escort the plane back!" The Colonel was silent for a moment before he spoke in even tones.

"Launch the fighters," he said casing me to lose faith. What he said next re-lit a coal of hope. "But have them stand off. Make them wait until the situation seems like it can't end well before they intervene."

"Thank you sir," I told the man as I took my seat again. The other Major just gave glares to the both of us before storming out of the room.

* * *

**Victor 'Classified' Redacted**

"Lower your gear if you understand," The Osean pilot radioed.

"Osean plane, can you hear me?" I called out. I had switched the radio for broad casting back on, but the red light was on, meaning damage to the system was making most of its systems inoperable. What was worse was that Dmitri couldn't lower our damaged gear either.

"What do we do?" he asked me.

"I don't know," I confessed. "Can we eject? Maybe if we explain this whole thing..."

"I'll try it, but that SAM hit really screwed this plane up." I prepared myself for an ejection procedure. Dmitri banked the plane so we were parallel with the coast and counted down for us. "Three, two, ONE!" but nothing happened. "Well, that was anti-climatic," he said morosely.

"Can we splash down?" I asked as a last ditch effort to be helpful.

"It's pretty much the only option left," my pilot replied. "Who's this on radar?" he asked suddenly. I looked down to see a couple of formations of our own fighters on radar.

"They're our own guy's," I responded. "But doesn't that make the whole thing more compli- They're firing! The idiots are firing!"

"What! That's stupid! Why are they doing that!"

"Quick! Put this plane in the water before those Osean planes get any ideas!"

* * *

**Nastasya 'Major' Obertas**

"Ma'am!" the Lieutenant spoke up again. "The Osean's were fired upon by our craft first!"

"What?!" me and the Colonel asked simultaneously. I looked around the room to see the other Major just finishing a phone call in another room.

**AN: I know, I know, it's still short. But it's enough for understanding and insight. Hope you're having an awesome day, and if you aren't... make it awesome!**


	3. -November 6th, 2010-

**AN: Another Chapter! This one's for ArtemisxHolly and their request for the... 'prior engagement...' Grimm went on in Chapter 16 Answering Questions in CotS. This one's got a little meat on it's bones so I hope you're all happy with it, enjoy!**

**November 6****th****, 2010**

* * *

**Kei 'Edge' Nagase**

I'm his goose. Caden's goose. A Caden Goose. Only he can make that a good thing. He can be such a goof sometimes. But now he's my goof. And I'm his goose.

I looked back down at our hands. There was no embarrassment, no hidden intentions, no one-sidedness behind what we were doing. Just a physical representation of our fancy for each other. We were back in Oured now, tall buildings and multiple bridges making it known we had reentered the city. After another three minutes, we were back in the parking lot of the hotel. Caden and I let go of each others hands before anyone else in the vehicle took notice. When we were all outside, Chopper began to say goodbye to his family. I could see tiny tears starting to form in Vicki's eyes when Caden spoke up.

"Hey, Chopper, why don't you and Raenay go have some... private time. We can look after Vicki for a while." Almost immediately, Vicki grabbed my arm and began to jump around with it. I couldn't help smile at her playful antics.

"You sure, Kid?" Chopper asked looking at Caden with raised eyebrows. "I wouldn't want you to be overloaded or anything-"

"Don't worry about it Chopper," I told the man, doing my best to ignore the rampant child using my arm. "I'll make sure to keep them all in line."

"Let's go, Alvin," Raenay told Chopper, pulling him back towards the van.

"Alright," Chopper said giving in with minimal resistance. "You take care of her, okay?"

"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Caden said to the retreating couple. They drove off soon after and once they had rounded a corner, Caden turned back towards Vicki who still hadn't stopped jumping. "So what do you want to do Vicki?"

"Let's play!" the child squealed. Grimm suddenly spoke up from the side.

"If it's alright with you Captain, I have a..." he looked around evasively and cleared his throat. I knew what this was. "...prior engagement for tonight that I'd prefer not to miss."

"That's fine," I told the nervous young man. "Blaze and I've got this covered." Grimm just nodded in relief and walked off towards some bus stop. "Where should we go?" I asked Caden.

"How about that playground in the park we walked by a couple days ago?" he suggested.

"Sounds good to me," I responded. I then thought about the small child that would be accompanying us. "You think Vicki will be up to the walk?"

"How 'bout it Vicki?" Caden asked as he dropped down to the child's height. "you want to walk to the park?" The kid only asked the most logical question in the world.

"Is it far?" Caden seemed to think this over.

"How about I give you a ride there?" My hands were finally given back to me as Vicki flung herself at Caden. "I'll take that as a yes," he said as he helped her onto his shoulders. As soon as she was up near his hair, her hands went into his bright red locks. I couldn't hold back the snicker that came even if I wanted to.

"At least it can't get any messier," I told him.

* * *

**Hans 'Archer' Grimm**

As I was waiting for the bus, I thought about how tonight was going to play out. I had told my brother that I was going out tonight. As in 'going out' going out. He needed the extra level of distinction. He had given me some pointers that he swore would help me make the best impression on the lady I would be seeing. I, however, failed to see the importance of telling Sylvia that I was 'her daddy.' I was almost positive that one had been to his amusement. When the bus came, I rode on it for a good ten minutes, arriving at the Ruby Thursday's thirty minutes early. We would be meeting here before getting a table so I went up to the woman who was seating people.

"Good afternoon sir, how many people today?" It was strange to be called sir outside of a military setting. I had a sudden thought about what it was like for Caden who always had people calling him sir, myself included. I brought myself back to reality where the woman was patently waiting for my answer.

"Two, but, if it's alright with you, I'd like to wait up front before we go and sit down." Me and Sylvia had never met before. In fact, the way we had set up this date was through letters. Old school. We found each other through a mis-sent letter and today we were finally meeting up. I had to priority rush the most recent letter to get it to her on time but she had flown out and tonight would be our first meeting out of, hopefully, many more.

"That's perfectly acceptable sir," the woman I was speaking with said. "You can have a seat if you'd like."

"Thank you," I responded as I went to sit on one of the cushioned booths at the front of the restaurant. I glanced at my watch again. Fifteen minutes until she was supposed to be here. Fifteen minutes to worry myself to death.

* * *

**Alvin 'Chopper' Davenport**

"So," my wife began, putting down her drink and looking back up at me. "Your flight lead, Caden?" I nodded to let her know she got it right. "Him and this Nagase... are they...?"

"You too?!"

"What?!" she asked in surprise looking around a little frightened. "Is something wrong?"

"No," I replied taking her hand with a smile. "Sorry, no. It's just that I think it should happen too."

"So they're not...?"

"As far as I know they aren't. Nagase's pretty sneaky though. But then there's Caden, so no. Definitely not together. Yet."

"What about the other one, Grimm was it?"

"I'm not sure about him," I answered truthfully. "He's a bucket of surprise, that one. Like that whole Belken thing. That threw me for a loop."

"You didn't know about that before today?" Raenay asked as I took another sip of hard cider.

"Pft," I said after I put down my glass. "before today, the most I knew about him was that he knows a whole bunch of stuff about alternate universes."

"Alternate what?" my wife asked in clarification.

"He's got this crazy notion that there could be another universe or dimension or whatever that is almost exactly like ours except for slight differences. Like the earth would look a little different or there would be different nations. There still would be people and stuff but they just aren't _exactly_ like us." My wife was silent for a moment. The moment turned into a minute. "Not you too!"

"What!" she said defensively, taking another sip of her beverage. "It _could_ be a possibility..."

"This is nuts!" I cried out as she just smiled at me. "He's turned my wife against me."

"Oh, stop it," she said slapping my wrist playfully. "You're always so overly dramatic."

"I love you," I said taking her hand and kissing it.

"Being overly dramatic isn't always bad," she added, flushing at the chivalrous display.

"Let's go dance," I told her nodding my head towards the open dance floor in the middle of the steakhouse. I loved these places. They had food, song _and_ dance. Beer usually just made the whole thing that much better. It was like a Renaissance Fair only way cooler and western. With beer. Raenay just nodded her head and hopped off her barstool. I briefly wondered what the rest of the flight was up to before my favorite hoedown song came on. "Honey, they've got my jam!"

"I thought that's what you said about 'Blurry,'" she said over the music.

"That's for rock, this is for this!"

* * *

**Sylvia 'Valkyrie' Solburg**

This trip was an eventful one to be sure. First, the air plane I'm on nearly gets shot to pieces while I'm on it. Then, I find out after all of that confusion that my luggage got sent to some place over in Verusa. How does that even happen? That's not even close! Then to top it off, the only rental left after the craziness at the airport is a sports bike. Wonderful. I just hope this Hans guy is worth it. I requested some leave for him, last minute to. CSO training is hard enough when you aren't playing catch-up. Petra Abels, my fellow CSO in training, had called me crazy for even doing this. Then she told me that I need to do it when I began to rethink it. Crazy Nordlander, she is, a true testament to her people.

I finally see the restaurant we're supposed to be eating at, a Ruby Thursday's. Wielvakia doesn't have any of this chain so eating here would be a whole new experience for me. I put the sports bike in one of the only remaining spots and took off my helmet. Having my luggage sent off to some random place limited my clothing options, and having to drive a sports bike even more so. I knew I looked like a complete mess with my orange frizzy hair going all over the place, though it certainly didn't need the excuse of a helmet to go crazy on me. I inhaled deeply and began to walk into the restaurant. It wasn't super busy, but there were twelve different people waiting in the front of the building for seats.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" the woman at the front behind some podium looking thing asked. It felt weird to be called ma'am outside a military setting.

"No," I replied. I had been having fun on this trip with the reactions different people had to my accent. The woman's reaction was one to go in my collection of memories."I jus' be waitin' on a friend."

"You too, huh?" A man who was waiting said. A young man. He was short, if he were a pilot, he would just be squeaking by. His eyes were a sharp green and his hair was brown, but maybe under the right light, it might look a little orange.

"Who you be waitin' on?" I asked him. I hadn't seen my date yet so I might as well strike up a conversation in the mean time.

"You first," he replied, the smallest of smirks on his face.

"It be a long story," I told him, taking a seat about a meter away.

"Well, I'm waiting, just like you. I think I'll have time to hear this story through," the man said, the small smile never leaving his face. I looked him over in scrutiny. There was something about him that made me think he knew something that he wouldn't let me be in on.

"Alright then," I began, situating myself in my seat. "So, one fine mornin' I wake and like all most evray other day, I go an' check my pillar box-"

"Pillar box?" the man asked, a confused look in his eyes.

"Yes, don't cha' have 'em here in Osea? How do ya receive your postage?"

"Oh," he said as if enlightened. "We just call them mailboxes here," he said with a smile.

"Mailbox," I repeated, feeling out the word. "Weird. Anyways, I go ta check the pillar- mailbox, and what do ya know, I've got some letter from some poor bloke off in Osea. It not be evray day I get postage from another country, ya see, so I'm curious. It's sure addressed ta me, well, ta my address, but I ain't ever seen the return address. I think I've mentioned my curiosity, so I go an' open the letter." The man's smile was accented by his curious eyes, though something already told me he knew this story, as crazy as it seemed. "So, as ya may have guessed, it not be fur me," I told him, ignoring the odd look for now. "It be fur some man in the Osean army, the man's brother if I'm rememberin' right. I stopped readin' right away, mind you, when I figured it out. I'm no snoop. So I go back inside an' write up a nice little story for the man who'd gone an' sent the letter. Explained the whole thing with me openin' it an' such. Eventually, we became pen pal's of sorts and finally decided ta meet up." I looked down at my time piece and saw it was already five minutes past our appointed time. "Looks as if he ain't gone an' shown up yet, though," I said, trying to mask the small amount of disappointment I had.

"If you don't mind me asking," the person I had been talking to asked. "What was this guy's name?"

"Hans Grimm," I told the man remembering the first time I had seen the name written in blue ink on that first letter. "Least, that's how I think ya say it. Never heard the man say it 'imself."

"Hans Grimm... Hans Grimm..." The man muttered to himself as he looked at his shoes in thought. "You know, I think I know him," he began looking up at me.

"You do?" I asked disbelieving. Osea was a large country. Very. Large. "Small world." The man pulled out his phone and began to push some buttons to scroll down a list of contacts.

"Yup," he said raising his eyebrows at finding the person I had mentioned. "Here he is right here. Want his number?" he asked.

"I don't know," I replied hesitantly. "I never asked 'im fur it and he never offered it ta me. What if it not even be the right person?"

"I bet he'd be okay with it," the man said with a confident smile. "And I'll bet you a twenty that it's the right person." I looked at the number displayed on the phone and then at the man again. What were the chances that a random stranger would know another complete random stranger? Such a small world indeed.

"Okay," I replied after a while. "Hold steady fur a moment, need ta find my own phone ta call 'im with."

"Take your time," the man replied relaxed. "I'm in no rush." I finally found my phone in one of my jacket pockets and entered the phone number. The tone was on for but a moment before the man who I had been sitting with had his own phone go off.

"Oh," he said in a somewhat toadyish way. "Excuse me a moment." He got up and walked but a foot away. "Hello?" I was confused. I had heard him say hello with the ear that wasn't to the phone yet the ear that was had heard the same word. "Hello?" The same weird echo came back. The man in front of me sighed and the voice in the phone did the same. As the man I had been speaking with snapped his phone shut, my call ended. The man came to sit back down with me. "So, is he coming?"

"I don't... Is there-?"

"Did he even answer?" he asked cutting me off.

"I'll think I'll be callin' him one more time," I said, not sure what was going on.

"Good idea," the man said. I redialed and no more than a second later, the mans phone rung again. He looked down at his device and tisked. "Prankster's using the same number," he said in disapproval. He picked up the phone and called, "Hello?" Again, the weird echo.

"Hello?" I called out. I could hear my voice just finishing on the other mans phone across from me. His smile grew as large as my confusion. "You're-"

"The 'poor bloke off in Osea'? Yeah, that's me," he said, his smile never waining. My confusion fell away. This Hans guy was worth it.

**AN:******So, I'm going to let you guys in on a super secret thing that only people reading this story will know... for now... before anyone else in CotS. Ready? Sylvia becomes ******Lfj't DTP ****and Petra becomes ****Dbefo't DTP** **and a third person **_**you don't get to know about yet**_** becomes ****Hsjnn't DTP****! Cool, huh?! But don't tell, okay? It's this stories secret. Okay, stay awesome! And don't tell!  
**

**PS: If you ever give up on these little puzzles in these Chapters, just PM me and I'll help you out. It's okay to admit defeat. ;)**


	4. -November 29th, 2010-

**AN: I know, it's been forever. But this was a hard one to get going. Rewrote the first scentence like 200 times trying to get started. Anyways, please send some suggestions on what you'd like covered. I'm really intersted in what you guys want more story on and from what perspectives. Enjoy!**

**November 29****th****, 2010**

**Marlene 'Phaser' Redacted**

I looked up at my plane with pride. Very few were allowed to even look at this plane, let alone touch it. I would be flying it. I would be killing with it. I would be bringing honor to Belka, to the homeland, with it. I would be putting down a wild dog with it.

"You know," a man said from behind me, his voice so typical of a scientist with it's high pitch that I knew he was part of the development team without even having to look. "Looking at it isn't going to do anything. It doesn't respond to thought," then, his voice took on acontemplative tone. "...Yet." I sighed. There were many good things to be said about the scientists here at Grunder. For instance, they were revolutionaries in terms of aviation technology. They had pioneered tactical laser systems with the Morgen back in '95, and now, just fifteen year later, they had a practical prototype fitted inside of a stealth aircraft. The fact that a laser beam on board the aircraft wasn't it's only piece of technological advancement was another wonder.

The Connection for Flight Interface, or as everyone who wasn't an egghead liked to call it, COFFIN, was a revolution in interfacing technology. No more shiny cockpit to give away your position, no more fragile glass canopy. The COFFIN system encased you in a steel box with state of the art camera relays to the outside world. Sure, it was scary at first, I mean, it's called COFFIN for crying out loud. But advantages became noticeable almost immediately. Who else could claim they could see through their plane?

I was starting to become restless. The Wardog squadron would be protecting the Vice President today in an ostentatious display of war mongering. It would only stoke the fires of hatred already blazing between the two superpowers. All I had to do today would be to make sure that the Vice President got his wish; an angry Osea who all pointed blaming fingers at Yuktobania. Simple enough, like my orders.

Kill one.

Killing them all would make them martyrs and while that may work to our advantage to begin with, it would hurt in the long run. Who else would hold back Yuktobania long enough for us to complete our planes? No, one would tear them apart internally. Slow enough to make sure we had time but quick enough that once we were ready, they wouldn't be a threat.

My giddiness was starting to get the best of me. I began pacing some more, never tearing my gaze away from the plane.

"Marlene?" I gave an angry grunt in response. These scientists were still civilians and civilians often forgot how to address me. I earned the rank of Colonel. I deserved to be addressed with it. "There's a man calling himself Hamilton on the phone. He wants to speak to you right away." My excitement to get underway with the mission was immediately dampened with that man's name.

Few people in our ranks of deception were chosen to be double agents. They were the smartest, most trained and adapted individuals. Hamilton was the best of the best. If there was anyone who was better at flying a jet than me, it was him. His choice of plane had always confused me, however. Personally, I like to have the best and newest. Hamilton, he had a thing for the rarities. The MIG 1.44 was exactly that. His ability to blend in with the Osean's made some actual Osean's seem like foreigners. It was almost disgusting how Osean he could be.

"Ma'am?" the scientist asked again, pulling me back from my thoughts.

"I'll be up in a moment," I told him as I took one last glance at the FALKEN. I pulled my gaze away as I began climbing the metal stairs up to a glassed in office in the large hangar. I pulled the phone up from the desk and put it to my ear, stealing myself for Hamilton. "Hello?" I called out, hoping there might've been a mistake of the mans identity.

"Marlene. How's Sudentor treating a fair lady such as yourself," the man said with a coolness that sent shivers down my spine."

"Just fine," I replied hoping he wouldn't try an attempt at small talk. It would only serve to put me more on edge. He must've known that.

"Grunder continuing to make interesting developments?"

"Yes. In fact, if all goes according to plan, the country you're blending in with should witness a... technology demonstration today."

"About that," the man piped up quickly a sudden interest in his voice that replaced his toying tone. I have the specifications and information on the specific plane you will be targeting. I'm uploading them to you're planes computer as we speak. Shoot down ONLY that plane. If my analysis of this squadron is correct, the pilot who you're taking out will cause the greatest effect. Good hunting, Marlene," the man finished icily as the line went dead. I stood there with the phone still up to my ear, terrified. What kind of man could spend so much time with a squadron, call them his friends, and then choose one of them to kill to cause the greatest harm, all without blinking?

**Tanner 'Tan tan' Black**

I originally didn't want to go to the speech. Who wants to sit around and listen to some old guy talk about stuff that isn't even that cool? But then mom said I could bring my best friend Garret and that there would be a fly-by, which is another way of saying that there's going to be planes. At least, that's what Garret said.

The day started off pretty good, mom had actually got some good cereal at the story yesterday so I ate three bowls. Garret came over just before lunch and we got to have a lot of chips with our sandwiches. Then we began to prepare for the speech. Well, that's what Garret and I called it. Mom still thought it was just playing video games, but adults can never understand. Garret and I went head to head in trying to shoot each other in our favorite arcade flight simulation game. I won the first round, but after that, Garret kept winning, but only because he wouldn't change his plane. I like to switch it up and use some of the classics like the F-16 Viper. It's a Viper, by the way. Only noobs like Garret call it the 'Fighting Falcon.'

Anyways, after some smack down in front of the television, my mom got us in the car and drove us to the stadium. I think the only reason she wanted to go was because everyone was saying that everyone who was someone was going, which doesn't make sense at all because everyone is already someone so why would you need to got listen to some old guy talk to be what you already are. Maybe adults just like to see jets too. That makes more sense. Once we got to our seats, mom opened her purse and pulled out some candy for Garret and I. She's pretty cool like that. Sometimes. Then we heard the rumble. Nothing gets you more excited than that deep rumble in your stomach, knowing that at any moment, a super cool and super fast plane is going to rush by you.

"I bet they're going to be Falcons," Garret said.

"You mean Vipers," I corrected. Garret may be a noob now, but I'm trying to train him right. "And they're too loud to be Vipers. They've got to be some kind of dual engine planes."

"Really?" Garret asked in confusion. "How do you know so much about airplanes anyways?" my friend asked. Before I could answer him though, four F-15's flew over the stadium, taking less than four seconds to cover the entirety of the huge place.

"WOAH!" me and Garret called out in unison. Even mom was grinning a little. After a few more seconds, I could see them rising up in the distance, rolling back around for another pass. All around me I heard 'oh's' and 'awes.' I waved at the pilots as they came back around, but I don't think any of them saw me. Then, the boring part began. Old people talking. Blah, blah, blah. Garret and I just ate our candy and talked quietly or else my mom would pinch me. She's good at that. Then I noticed something strange. One of the policemen began running down the stairs near us. Then other policemen began running too. Then the old guy on the stage was pulled off the stage. Then there was a very, very loud boom.

"What was that?" I asked Garret, but he didn't seem to know either. I looked over at my mom and asked her but she was already grabbing for Garret's and my arm. She began to pull us back towards the car but there were so many people going the same way that it was taking forever.

"What's happening, mom?" I asked confused. Sure, the old guy was boring but everyone running away like they were was a little silly. Then I saw the sky outside. There were smoke trails and explosions every so often. It. Was.

AWESOME!

"Garret! Look, dude! It's like our video game!"

"HOLY COW!" he said, eye's nearly popping out of his head. Such a noob. Mom didn't seem as excited though. In fact, the more me and Garret talked about how cool it was, the more sad she seemed to got. By the time we had got to the car, I had a red hand mark on my arm because mom was trying to go so fast and was practically dragging us. As soon as we were in, it was like the stadium again. Everyone trying to leave so it was going super slow. But I didn't mind too much anymore because we could watch the cool show now. Just as it seemed to calm down a little, there was a bright red line that flashed across the sky, kind of like lightning but it was red. And a lot more straight. And lasted longer. But a lot like lighting. Then a plane exploded as the light touched it. Then the light was gone.

"What was that?" I asked my mom but she was crying and didn't answer.

"Dude, what's wrong with your mom?" Garret asked quietly.

"I don't know," I replied, starting to get a little worried. I continued to watch the sky but there really wasn't any more explosions happening. Then I heard the rumble. It was almost like when the planes had flown by but quieter. Like there were less of them now. In fact, as I looked up, there was only one plane coming closer to us. Then, the plane went right into the stadium.

"Why he did do that?" Garret asked. But I didn't know why either. Mom just kept crying. She was really killing the mood.

**Vicki 'term of endearment here' Davenport**

Dad said I couldn't watch him from the stadium but I could see him on TV. He said the stadium would be too loud but mom had the volume on the TV up so high that I think dad was wrong about which place would be more quiet.

"Mommy?"

"Yeah, honey," my mom said without looking away from the TV.

"How does daddy get into the TV?"

"Daddy's not in the TV," she told me.

"Well not yet he's not," I replied. Adults could be so literal some times. "But when he comes on, how does he get there?" Grandpa came into the room from the kitchen nearby and sat down next to mom and looked at me.

"What they do," grandpa began with his story voice. I loved grandpa's story voice. "Is take a special thing called a camera and point it at your dad," he said. "Then, the camera acts like a persons eye and takes a picture and sends it into the air. Our TV can take the picture out of the air and show us what the camera sees."

"Oh," I said. There's pictures in the air? How come I couldn't see them? Was I breathing them in? Was daddy's picture in me?

"There they are!" mommy said excitedly. She patted grandpa's knee to get his attention even though he was already looking at the TV.

"I see them," grandpa said with a chuckle. The noise was very loud so I hid behind the couch where it was a little more quiet.

"What are you doing back here?" grandma asked as she came in to the living room from the kitchen.

"It's loud," I told her. She looked back up towards the TV and then back at me with a serious face. I don't know why, but a lot of the times, grandma's serious face is funny.

"It is, isn't it," she said nodding. Then she patted my mom on the shoulder. "You're frightening your child," grandma said looking back at me once she had mom's attention.

"Oh, I'm sorry honey," mom said with a little laugh. "I should probably turn it down a little, huh?" I nodded my head big. Sometimes when I give adults a small nod, they don't see it. So when it's important, I nod big so they can see it. After mom turned the volume down, she patted her lap for me to sit on. Once I got up in her lap, I watched the TV with everyone. There was some old man speaking on the television when grandpa spoke again.

"That damn fool is trying to make this war go on forever!"

"DAVID!" grandma said as she swatted at him. When ever grandpa said bad words, grandma would always yell 'David' for some reason and swat at him. It was funny. "Watch your language!"

"Sorry, it's just that-" the TV made a loud noise again and scared me. It also seemed to scare mom too because she jumped with me in her lap.

"What was that?" she asked. Then the TV stopped working and a picture of all these different colored rectangles came up. Mom just covered her mouth with her hand after that.

"What's wrong mommy?"


	5. -September 28th, 2010-

**AN: Find out how much money Pop's won in Chapter 21!**

**-September 28****th****, 2010-**

* * *

**Kei 'Edge' Nagase**

He was sleeping in today. Usually, Caden was pretty punctual about waking up and getting breakfast. With me. But today, he seemed to be catching up on some sleep. I just wish I had known that was going to be his plan. Popping in on the mess hall to see if he was there was starting to get me noticed by the kitchen staff. Finally, I saw him sitting at our window. It seemed we already had a spot of our own.

"Hey," I called out softly, not wanting to surprise him. He seemed engrossed in watching all the people outside working on the runway.

"Hey," he replied, sparing a quick glance over at me with a slim smile before looking back out the window. I heard the low rumble of Pop's plane landing and we both watched his graceful landing. I became disinterested in what was happening outside and looked back at Caden who still held his gaze on the events occurring on the other side of the window.

I had almost said something stupid to him yesterday. Thank goodness for that scramble. He was just so easy to talk to, and so sincere about everything he says, it had almost slipped out. He suddenly turned back towards me to catch me staring at him. Embarrassed, I looked at anything else.

"You look tired," he said after a moment. That was strange. He knew I would be tired, he saw me last night when he came in. Unless he thought I hadn't seen him...

"Oh, yeah," I replied, not giving anything away for the moment. I remembered his and Choppers discussion on unwinding time and gave him a half executed grin. "I was doing some late night 'unwinding time.'" I always went through that book when I needed some quality reflection time. We both grinned before I spoke up again. "Just reflecting on how things have been going. I couldn't help but notice you looked a little sleep deprived yourself," I told him. He seemed initially surprised by my comment. Maybe he had thought I hadn't seen him.

"Well, I did say I planned on laying down on a beach," he started slowly. I put a satisfied expression up as he continued. "I ended up falling asleep in the sand last night, only to be woken up by some rude and obnoxious waves." Wait a second... was he going to- "They weren't rude enough to splash me in the face, but none the less, rude and obnoxious." He didn't... I reached out and punched him in the arm to let him know just what I thought of him calling me rude and obnoxious. But even with those descriptors applied to me, when it was him calling me them, I really didn't mind. As Caden continued his ridiculous tale, I noticed he left out the part where he spotted me in the mess hall.

"That was quite the story," I told him. "But you left out something. You think you're so sneaky that I couldn't hear your wet feet last night?" Dad always said I had impeccable hearing, but seriously, his feet squeaking on that old tile floor should've at least woken up three people. Caden seemed surprised to have been caught. Maybe it wasn't as loud as I thought...

"Yes, I did walk past you last night and yes, I did notice you writing in your journal," journal? Did he think my book was some kind of diary? "But as soon as I realized it was private-"

"Journal?" I asked him, wanting to know what he thought. "Oh, that wasn't a journal."

"Oh," he said, his apologetic expression leaving him for a curious one. "What was it then?" Not yet.

"Just because it isn't a journal doesn't mean it isn't private," I told him quickly. I hadn't meant for it to sound cold, but I was so used to trying to keep it a secret that it just came out. Caden just began to stuff his mouth. Great, way to shoot your foot, Kei. I decided to leave before I did anything else stupid.

"Rawry," Caden said with a mouthful of food.

"What?"

"Sorry," he said after swallowing. "I didn't mean to intrude on you." He thought this was his fault now.

"I did say I could hear you right? You didn't see anything I didn't want you to see." His face contorted into confusion before I left. Maybe that was a little cryptic, but at least now he wouldn't blame it on himself, right?

* * *

**Peter 'Pop's' Beagle**

What a week.

When I first saw the two newbies show up, they seemed just like all the other young pilots that came here to be refined. But after last night...

Caden and Kei, there was no refinement needed. Sure, maybe some experience, can never get enough of that. But they were ready for the trials. Bartlett sure knew his stuff when it came to his intuition on things like this. I heard some foot steps behind me and turned to see my favorite Colonel in the whole Osean military.

"Hey Nathan," I called out to the man who everyone else in Wardog knew as Thunderhead.

"Hey is for horses," the man said with a crooked grin. I waved my hand at him dismissively as he came to stand next to me by the hangars. I was watching the repairs on the runway from the shade of my trainers hangar. The orange planes had hardly seen usage lately, but that was never an excuse to slack off on maintenance. "What are you thinking about?" Nathan asked as he looked out on the scene I had been admiring.

"The new face of Wardog," I replied. It had been a few hours, but everyone knew that Caden would be the flight lead of Wardog for the foreseeable future. Nathan just gave a weird little grunt. "What? Got a problem with him?" I asked.

"No, it's just..." Nathan gave a great sigh. "Us AWACS people, we're a pretty networked group. I've got friends all over the place from all the different Flags that Osea does down near Redmill by Oured. We share stories between deployments and stuff. Well back in 2005, right after the whole Usean war stuff, we get one guy who claims to have been Mobius One's AWACS; SkyEye. He started sharing all of these stories, got pretty detailed too. Part of me thinks the guy was actually telling the truth."

"Why wouldn't he be?"

"Well, our next scheduled Flag operation didn't start in two days so... it was down time. At a bar."

"Ah."

"Shut up."

"I didn't-"

"Anyways, the way he described Mobius One's actions and choices, his different sayings, hell, even his flying style, they all come to the front of my thoughts whenever I'm watching and listening to that kid. It's... weird." I gave Nathan a sideways look and he just looked at me with an open face. "I'm glad the kid is here and that he's leading, for sure. It's just, I'm always thinking of this Mobius One that some guy told me about when I see him do his stuff. That is weird, right?"

"I guess."

"What were you thinking about?"

"How long it's going to take for him to get with Nagase."

"Oh, so I'm thinking about how he bears a remarkable resemblance to a possibly made up Mobius One and you're over here wondering if he's got the hot's for one of his wing-mates." The man was quiet for a moment. "Two years." I gave him a questioning look. "What? There's a war starting up if you haven't noticed. Not really the kind of conditions that help that romance stuff out."

"Ha," I laughed. "You ever love anyone, Nathan?"

"What's that-"

"If anything, this war's just going to speed it up. I bet it won't even take half a year."

"Wow. This is going to be easy money. Okay, how much."

"You sure you don't want to change your time frame?" I asked, giving the man an out.

"You sure you don't wan to change yours?"

"200."

"Whoa. Okay, 200 it is," Nathan said as he reached down to shake my hand. I couldn't help but grin. Easiest money I would ever make.

**AN: Really, I will write almost any time frame you suggest. My only limitation is that it has to have happened in CotS.**


	6. -August 31st, 2010-

**AN: WHAT?! ANOTHER UPDATE?! AND IT'S LONG TOO?! Look what happens when a suggestion is made. Not saying that this will happen evey time but hey, I like to write from requests. This is for you soulasunajellal. Hope it's to yours and everyone elses likeing. This would be during Chapter 1 for any of those who want to hear it from the horses mouth. ****Oh, and I had loads of fun writing Bartlett. ****Hope I represented him accuretly. Enjoy!**

**August 31****st****, 2010**

* * *

**Jack 'Heartbreak One' Bartlett**

"Yeah, I'm sure I want those two, Dumb-ass," I told the man on the phone.

"Are you sure?" Greg asked. He seemed immune to my insults now after a couple of years of hearing them. "Their psychological profilers say that they're not suitable for a squadron due to their anti-social tend-"

"Have they ever been paired together?" I asked. I could read the damn reports. In fact, I was obviously reading them better than the damn people who were administering them. Separate, yeah, they wouldn't work. Put two people like that together though...

"... No."

"Put them in the sky with each other. Just the two of them. Then send them here. Tomorrow. Package deal. Not one or the other, both."

"The male is showing promise, though," the man on the other end said. "We have plans for him that don't include the woman-"

"Hey shit-for-brains, don't make me have to call your boss. I want both of them. Tomorrow. Here." I hung up the phone and looked up to my door way to see Peter. "Why'd you chose such a simple name?" I asked him once he shut the door. "You had such a good and original one with Wolfgang."

"Oh please, Wolfgang sounds like some kind of STD," the man shot back with a grin. "Besides, I needed an Osean sounding name and going by yours, simple was better."

"Ouch," I said with a small smile.

"So what was that about?" the veteran ace asked.

"Peter," I said after clearing my throat for dramatic effect, my small smile not leaving as I said his 'simple' Osean name. "You remember that time I told you to trust me to trust my gut to get us out of that stupid desert?"

"Oh here we go," the man said as he drug his hand across his face.

"Hey, don't 'oh here we go' me. We got out of that place alive and what I just did now will ensure that people somewhere in the near, or distant, future will get out of some place alive too."

"What makes you say that?"

"Look at these papers," I said as I pushed the hefty folders towards the man. It was strange for the guy, this Caden, to have a folder as thick as someone who had served two years already, but it just made the feeling in my gut that much stronger. "Tell me what you see," I said after a moment.

"Two young'n's that need more refinement."

"Ha, you lost your touch," I told the older man. "I see two pilots that will work flawlessly together." Peter just rose his eyebrow. "Look, look here," I said putting a finger on first Caden's psych sheet and then Kei's. "The guy. He shows great potential but there's one place he's lacking in. Self interest. He's given everything he's got to the cause. He'd be to willing to give his life. Pretty much a really advanced combat drone at this point. Probably why the military is all over him right now."

"What about the girl?"

"She's a great pilot."

"That's all you got for her? You've got all this stuff on the Caden guy but for her, 'she's a great pilot.'? Then why her specifically? There are others with higher marks."

"This is where the gut comes in. She'll be able to give him his self interest." Now Peter saw it too. He got up out of his seat and slowly went to exit with a wiry smile still on his face.

"And they call you Heartbreak," he said over his shoulder. "Ha."

* * *

**Kei 'Edge' Nagase**

Heierlark sucks.

At first, I thought this would be a great place. Reason number one. I mean sure, it's cold, but I used to live up north so I like to think that I'm used to colder weather. I had hoped that, in a weird way, the cold here would remind me of home in a good way. Nope. Way. To. Cold.

Second reason why I thought this would be a great place. I thought people would want to get to know me for me, pilot Nagase. Back in November City, I would never be seen as a pilot, but as the woman who enlisted back in '08. But the questions were never about pilot Nagase.

"What's your favorite plane?" That was always the first one unless they had been in before becoming a pilot.

"What's your favorite maneuver? Can you do it?" That one got me quiet. I really didn't have a favorite maneuver. The barrel role was actually pretty fun, but everyone could do that, or at least should be able to, and with people shooting out things like Pugachev's Cobra, it felt like a silly answer. And as if any of the people shooting out answers like that could do it.

After a couple of those kinds of questions, it seemed people got uncomfortable. I'm not much of a talker when it comes to large groups of new people. One on one, I can do that. Any more than four new people though and I become, well, quiet. So, for the few people who could handle being with me in a small group, the questions got a little more personal. Though, I often wish they didn't.

"Do you think they're cute?" That was the most annoying pseudo-personal question. Any woman in the place flocked to me, seeking the fellow woman to help shoulder 'the womans struggle in the military'. Dad had always taught me that the only kind of woman that struggled in the military was the one that didn't belong there. These woman were no exception. Sure, from time to time, there are legitimate concerns that need to be taken seriously, but as soon as they done complaining about their repressed role and the struggle of getting recognized for their talent and not their gender, they go and ask that ditsy question. Good by.

"You got anyone important back home?" That was nearly as bad as the cute question, maybe even worse. On the surface, it's harmless, they just want to know about your home life right? Nope. Look who's asking. Men. Always the men. It's strange how the wording never changes with them on that particular question. Women who want to know about your family will be specific and ask. Men are ambiguous and try to be sly at finding out if you're available. Thank goodness my dad taught me about that nuance and many more. Even Mom had written some precautionary warnings in some of her letters. I never gave an answer to that one.

But as I waited for my first opportunity to fly, one question seemed to be coming up from everyone I met. "What do you think of that Irving guy?"

I heard the name pronounced seven different ways, and nearly everyone asked me about him. But I never actually got to see the man, and only ever saw his plane once, when he took off. But that wasn't what made me remember him. It was the four F-5's that followed that made me think about him.

And the third reason why Heierlark sucks. I love flying. It's the only thing that seems to go right for me in my life. I like to be pushed at it so I can get better, that's part of the fun. But when no one pushes you... I flew great the first couple of times up here. So they got me in the sky with other trainers. A few mistakes, but I got better quickly. Then they start skewing things. Nothing wrong with that, just making me better. But it was the way people treated me when I got back. They were holding a grudge for being shot down. That started to take the love of flying from me. I don't want to be the cause of hate, and if my flying was doing that...

Final reason, that also kinda ties back with the first. It takes forever for your bed to get warm enough for sleep. Last night, it didn't happen until one. And then Hannah woke me up at four. With yelling.

"GET UP SOLDIER! EMERGENCY SCRAMBLE! WE'VE GOT AN EMERGENCY OFFENSIVE SORTIE!" I moaned as I got out of my finally warm cot and shuddered as I slipped into my freezing uniform. Sometimes the trainers took their job a little to seriously in my opinion. I got into my plane in thirty minutes and was in the air in five more.

"Where are the opponents?" I asked as I looked back at the empty runway. Usually, they had my opponents all ready for take off.

"They're not up here yet. We've got to get into position first. And what was up with that lazy get up? I think you need to sharpen up, Edge." The woman behind me suddenly got silent and then laughed a little. "Ha. Sharpen up. Edge. Oh, that was, that was not planed, but good."

"Yep, never heard it before," I said dryly. Hannah had this annoying habit of spotting the irony in everything and pointing it out. Even if it would take a whole minuet.

"Okay, whatever. You'll be coming back towards base from bearing 038. We'll be posing as the Belken, I mean, opposing force." Technically, we weren't allowed to directly say the opposing force was Belka in our simulations. Something about delicate relationships. It happened anyways. It was a sad thought, but in all likely hood, that was where the next aggressive move would come from. I just sighed and moved into position.

* * *

**Greg 'insult to intelligence from Jack Bartlett here' Richmond**

What the hell. How did he see that? What was he still doing at the rank of Captain? Shit. And they were calling these two rookies? Damn. Moment's like these made Bartlett's many insults feel justified.

"Sir?" one of the air traffic controllers up in the tower with me said, pulling me from my stupor.

"Yeah, um... Give those two clearance to land ASAP. Storms coming in."

"Yes, Sir." I needed a coffee. Or a kick in the pants. At least I had agreed before he called my boss. Now I would look like the genius when those two saved the world or some shit. I would need to pull the gun cam footage from those planes later. I wanted a personal copy.

* * *

**Kei 'Edge' Nagase**

I had been pretty moody since this afternoon. It wasn't because I had lost the engagement, but because I hadn't been able to find the pilot I had faced afterwards. I had asked around about him but no one knew where he was. Seemed he was just as popular with people as I was. The only thing people were able to tell me was that he was a stuck up pilot who wouldn't talk to anyone. But after what I had seen this morning... I wandered off to the hangars with the trainers to to get some quite time. The hangar I was in had just finished getting warm enough for me to take my jacket off when someone opened the door. And kept it open. I just about let my biter mood get the better of me when I recognized the faint smile and clear eyes of the person in the room with me.

They began to walk around the plane with their hand never coming off the aluminum surface. The soothing sound it made put me back into a relaxed mood and I almost fell asleep. Then the sound stopped. The guy just stood there for a moment not moving at all, a thoughtful expression the only indicator of a sentient being. A phrase my dad always used when ever I stopped and thought popped into my head.

"You look very contemplative."

"Just thinking back on things," he said as casually as he could, trying to recover from the obvious fright I had elicited by surprising him. I decided to cut him a break and not tease him about it. He turned back towards the plane to resume his thinking.

"I know what you mean," I offered. "I think we are very lucky to have been assigned to squadrons," I continued as I got off the toolbox I had been sitting on.

"The squadron assignment is just a bonus. I am in it for the... freedom. I can only hope I won't have to stain the sky with any death. I will if I have to but..."

"... only then." I finished for him. It was stunning, in my time of being in the military, I hadn't yet met anyone who shared such a similar view to war and killing as me. I stared at him for a moment before continuing, making sure this wasn't another one of my fanatical daydreams. "You're an amazing pilot. You seemed at home in the sky today. It's been a while since I've seen anyone more comfortable up there than me," I told him truthfully. I had been wanting to say it to him all day and now that he was here, I was finally able to get it off my chest. It was strange though, usually, I had trouble telling someone they had nice shoes. Why was I able to be so forward and open? Was he doing this?

"I could say the same about you," he replied with a smile. I couldn't help it. It was the first praise I had received that was for my piloting skills alone since I got here and it was given with no strings attached. I felt my cheeks begin to burn so I hid a little. I got over it quickly though and faced him again.

"I'm Nagase. Kei Nagase," I said as I pushed a pesky stray hair behind one of my ears before offering my hand. "What's your name?"

"I'm Caden. Irving. Caden Irving," he said as he rather humorously came out of a trance like state and shook my hand. He then asked, "How long have you been flying, Ms. Nagase?" His formality made me smile. His humor was the kind I was comfortable with. Most other guys seemed to think raunchy jokes were the best thing since first grade.

"I enlisted back in '08," I began as I walked towards the plane. "I worked hard to get into Officer Training School, only to be denied three times. Finally made it this year." I looked back to Caden who was listening with all his attention. It felt good that someone was interested in my story. The story of pilot Nagase. "I had a bone to pick with them for not admitting me earlier." I looked up at Caden and noticed that he was smirking with me. He must've known what that statement meant. I reiterated it anyways. "Made sure to show them what they had been skimming over." I moved around the plane for a moment before I continued. The attention felt good and I wanted to prolong it. "When I got into the cockpit for the first time, I felt so..." I spun back towards my one man audience with a loss of words. Turned out I didn't need them though because Caden was already nodding with that knowing smile.

"Anyways," I said, continuing my story. "When they started dogfight training, I vowed to show up. I was doing so well down in November City that they transferred me up here for..." I looked right at the man to try and find that tell-tail sign of smugness."Competition." But I never found it. He only looked surprised. "You're not like what the other pilots I've been meeting told me you'd be like. They all said you were... well... let's say, less talkative."

"Sorry to disappoint," he said with a slight grin, then added with seriousness, "I'm just another pilot in training. If I start acting like some big-shot, then I get shot. Everyone who tries to talk to me seems to want to ask questions about things that an instructor could answer better. They don't ask the right questions, is what I'm trying to say, I guess."

"I know what you mean," I said, glad to know I wasn't the only one who thought people asked stupid questions around here. "So what squadron did you get assigned?" I asked. Maybe we might be able to send letters to each other or something.

"I believe it was the 108th Tactical Fighter Squadron. Wardog." Wardog? Was he pulling my leg? "Supposed to be stationed out at Sand Island. It'll be a nice change of scenery, I think. How about you?"

"Wardog," was all I said, not really able to say much more.

"Yep, that's what I said. How about you? What Squadron were you assigned to?"

"No, that's just it. I'm Wardog as well." I told him. Now he looked surprised.

"Do you think they...?" he began, but I cut him off. If there was one thing my dad taught me, it was that the Osean's usually did everything for a purpose, even if it was a stupid one. His favorite example was taxes.

"Did it on purpose? Maybe. It is a pretty big coincidence otherwise," I told him as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Well," he started. "Maybe you can help me become more 'talkative.'" Ha!

"I don't know if I'm the right person to help you with that," I told him with a faint smile. "But I'm more than happy to try so long as you try to make me a better pilot."

"I think we can work something out," he said slyly. Now I knew he was just being corny. I flashed a quick grin before dropping my gaze to my feet and shuffling them about. Why was I acting this way. He's just a guy. A guy I don't even know that well. A guy I don't know that well that I get along with and have already shared more with than anyone else at this stupid place.

"I think there's a party going on for us back there," he said, breaking me from my personal beat up session. Still grinning, I lifted my head and nodded, quickly walking back over to the toolbox I had been sitting on and grabbing my winter coat. He walked over to the side door of the hangar and placed his hands on the bar to open it. I could tell he thought it was cold by the slight wince he gave when his bare hands made contact with the metal. He pushed but the door wasn't budging. Then he pushed harder and we heard the sound of ice snapping. He started to back away from the door a bit and taking his lead, I took a couple of steps back as well. He rammed his body against the door and heard more snapping and popping, but the door still wasn't opening. I began to think about what might happen if we were to become trapped here for the night. What we would have to do to stay warm... I Blushed furiously as he broke the ice seal on the door and turned towards me, huffing a little and then clearing his throat from exertion. He held the door open for me and I tried to play off my embarrassing thoughts with a smile and fake laugh.

"Ladies first," he said with a small cloud of condensation forming from his breath. NOT HELPING. As I walked past him, I gave him a punch on the arm and then raced off towards the mess. I needed to get away from him for a moment to collect myself. I tried the door but like the hangar, it was frozen shut.

"I suppose I will have to help you even after that little stunt," he said with mock disapproving as he caught up to me at the door to the base. I just punched him in the arm again with a small embarrassed smile and stepped aside. After another couple of yanks on the door, he got it to snap open, blasting us with warm air. We walked towards the mess hall together, neither of us saying much. I was glad that Caden would be coming to Sand Island. Even though I had just met him, we were enough alike that I already considered him a friend. If there is one good thing I could say about Heierlark base, it's that I met Caden Irving.


	7. -December 15th, 2009-

**AN: Got tired of waiting around to hear what you wanted. I might be able to put the other ones up here soon, just got to write them. Enjoy!**

**-December 15****th****, 2009-**

* * *

**Andrew 'Mobius One' Irving**

"Andrew?" Liz called from our bedroom, a poorly masked sense of worry permeating through the form of a question delivery. I've known Elizabeth too long not to catch something like that. "I haven't heard a single word from him all day," she continued, not really waiting for me to give an answer I know she would ignore. It wouldn't be she would ignore any response I gave because she didn't care for my opinion, she cared about my opinion a lot. But what she was doing right now was one of her more annoying habits where she was justifying something she had been wanting to do for a while with convoluted logic that she'd hope I'd agree with. "You think he's alright? You don't think he's been in a accident, do you? Maybe I should call him... I'm going to jest send him a quick text," she said in her usual rapid-fire manner when these kinds of moods over took her.

"Hun," I began calmly from the kitchen where I was making a meal large enough for sevral people. It had become something of a late tradition where we would host the Elsworth's the first day of our kid's winter break. It began the first time our son drove their own girl, Whitney, back home for the holidays with himself. "Maybe texting our teenager while he's driving isn't such a good idea. Haven't you seen those statistics on the television. Or the newspaper. Or heard them on the radio? Huh," I muttered, loud enough for Liz to hear. "It's like they're trying to... like... send a message or something."

Liz walked out of our room clutching her cell phone in one hand and I soon found out that her other hand, thankfully, had nothing in it as it slapped me on the back. Then, to rub salt in the wound, she got out of my reach, not that I was making any effort to stop what I knew she would do already, and began reading out loud as she typed on the small phone.

"Caden, it's your mom-"

"You're texting him, he's going to see your contact info before he even reads that," I told her with a small smile on my face at being able to take even a little oxygen out of her intakes. Ouch. No, that definitely wasn't a good one. Damn fighter jet analogies kept sounding really stupid. I was pulled from my self berating by the sound of my wife hitting the backspace key on her phone a couple of times.

"Caden," she began again, giving me a small stink eye least her smile come out and ruin her attempt to look frustrated with me. "Just thought I'd check up on you and see how you're doing. Give me a call or text when you get the chance, love mom." I dramatically tore my hand away from the goose I was stuffing and put it over my heart making a pained expression on my face.

"Oh honey," I began with all the angst I could muster. "That message, it was so... I didn't think your love could reach such heights!" That finally did it. Her poor attempt at trying to be mad at me fell apart as she snorted and let her laughter tumble like her hair as she bent over with laughter. After a while, she got a hold of herself as I resumed finishing up the goose.

"And the first lady tells me that you hardly ever speak over the radio," she began, reminding me again of our extraordinary lives. "Too bad, you may just be able to make those enemy pilots fall out of the sky with such a distraction."

"Eh," I put out a little glumly. "I never really did speak much over the radio, even back when I was with ISAF. Now, I don't because I don't want them to hear my voice. Too worried about them figuring out who I am and finding you guys."

"Fat bit of help that was," Liz muttered as my bad mood began to catch on. Shoot. Today was supposed to be a happy day. Our son was coming back from college to spend some time with us. We couldn't dwell on the possibility it could be the last bit of time we would spend with him for quite some time.

"Hey," I said as I walked over to the sink to wash my hands so I could hold my wife's hand without smearing it with goose innards. "Let's not think on that," I told her as she looked back up at me. "Let's just make sure this is a Christmas he can remember for a long time and smile each time it comes up." Just then, Liz' phone sounded off with that annoying default chime that she didn't know how to change and wouldn't let anyone do for her because she said she would get around to it herself.

"Oh! He responded. No, wait, Whitney did for him. 'Mrs. Irving, Caden's driving right now, but he told me to respond for him. He says he loves you and will be home soon.'"

"Ha!" I said, not being able to help myself from exploading into a fit of laughter. Liz just glared at me.

"What, Andrew? Is it so inconceivable that our son loves me?"

"Oh," I began trying to get my breath. "I'm sure he loves you. But there's no way in hell that's what he told her to put down."

* * *

**Whitney 'Whitnea' Elsworth**

"Remember that project back in high school with Mr. Roghe?" Caden asked me after a lull in our conversation. I thought for a moment, trying hard to think through five years of teachers and professors to see if I could remember. "Careful," Caden said teasingly, noticing my winced eyes of concentration. "Don't want you to get a brain aneurysm from all that effort," he said jokingly.

"Shut up," I said, making swatting motions at him as I continued to try and recall the elusive Mr. Roghe.

"Well, anyways, he gave us that one project where we had to make a bowl with holes in it so that when we put it over a light bulb, it made a constellation," Caden said without taking his eyes off the road too much. I then began to faintly recall that particular project. Then I began to recall it in full because Caden had been there with me. Most memories where he had a role in them seemed to be much easier to think about. Strange the same couldn't be said for memories concerning Charles. I decided to speak up before thoughts of Charles ruined my day.

"I remember," I began. "You made one of Orion, didn't you. But then, of course, you had to go and be Mr. Overachiever and put Sirius right there with him."

"Couldn't help it," Caden said with a shoulder shrug and a smile, causing me to think things I really shouldn't about a friend as close as him. "They're my favorite, and if a little bit of extra credit comes my way for including my favorite things, that can't be a bad thing, can it? Besides, you were Mrs. Overachiever if we're putting labels on things. Not only did you do a Southern constellation, Centaurus has the most visible stars out of any constellation. At least I have an excuse for my choice, we can't even see Centaurus where we live."

While Caden continued to make light fun of my attempt to get extra credit in that class as well, I tried to hide the blush on my face at the implications of us being Mr. and Mrs. Overachiever. I was offered a reprieve with the buzzing of Caden's phone.

"Can you get that for me?" he asked, a mild chuckle in his voice as he glanced down at the phone, not taking his eyes off the road for more than a second.

"Sure," I said as I grabbed the phone. "It's your mom," I told him as I turned the screen on. "'Caden, just thought I'd check up on you and see how you're doing. Give me a call or text when you get the chance, love mom.' Aww, so sweet," I teased him back for his previous taunts.

"Can you text her for me?" he said, a small blush on his face. I loved that I could do that to him, after all, he could do it so easily to me. I nodded my head and began to type on his phone, letting his mom know it was me texting her to prevent any kind of embarrassing comments coming from her end. "Tell her that she needs to stop worrying so much about me and that she should help dad with dinner instead, you know, to get her mind off it." In my mind, I knew exactly what he meant and put that down instead.

"There. Done." Another lull in conversation. "Thanks," I said out of the blue, earing me a complimentary 'confusion stare' from Caden.

"What for?" he asked seeking clarification.

"Driving me back all these times. I can't believe this will be the last time."

"It doesn't have to be," he replied nonchalantly after a couple of seconds. "I'm sure we'll still have Christmas dinner's together for years to come." That caused me to turn to look out the window very quickly. The car became very hot very fast. Did he even realize how that sounded? Maybe it's just me being wishful. "It's become something of a family tradition now." Yeah, I'm being wishful. God, the things he does to me. "You alright? Do I need to turn the heat down a little?" he asked concerned. If he only knew...

"Yeah," I said quickly before anything else came out. "If you don't mind." In all actuality, I had been meaning to ask him to turn the heat up a little, it was freezing in the stupid car. Maybe I deserved this. I shivered just a little bit as the air that blew on me got a little colder. I mean, it's my own fault for pushing us deeper and deeper into the fricken 'friend zone.' Caden clearly was fine with that and honestly, I couldn't blame him. He had grown up with so few friends, one that kept reaffirming that position was probably wonderful for him. But I couldn't help but get these vibes sometimes. Like he wouldn't be put out by the idea of us being more than friends. He certainly wouldn't be the one to start something though. Again, he had so few friends, he'd be too afraid of losing one to even ask a wrong question.

Suddenly, the heat kicked back on, even warmer than it had been. Surprised and relieved, I glanced over at Caden. He had a small smile on but didn't say anything as he glanced at me for a brief moment before flicking his eyes back to the road. He must've seen me shiver.

"Thanks," I said, blushing again for more than one reason, the main one being his caring demeanor that played havoc with my angsty feelings. He just nodded his head as a small bloom of red tainted his cheeks as well. The torture.

"No problem," he said but I could tell he was going to say more. "_Whitnea_," he finally added in a slow, teasing manor. That relived a lot of the tension.

"God," I said bringing my hand to my forehead to show he was giving me a headache. "You know I hate that name. Only my _dad_ uses that and you _know_ he only does it to tease me." Caden just smirked as he continued to drive. But if I was being honest, I wish he would call me that more. It was personal and in a way, intimate. I decided to look out the window again and replay his voice saying my horrible, yet not so horrible nickname for the rest of the trip. Unless, of course, he wanted to talk some more.

"You want to grab some lunch?" That didn't take long.

"Sure, I could use some chow," I replied casually.

"Anything in particular?" Considerate.

"Nah, you go a head and choose."

"Then, I hereby decree that on this day, Caden Irving and Whitney Elsworth shalt partake in the expansive feast that can only come from Taco King!" Funny.

"Your a dork."

"Hum, a hungry dork. Hey, that means we're like, the same, or something!" I definitely needed to find some courage some where. Screw the damn friend zone.

* * *

**Charles 'Chuck' Vandran**

Incompetent. Thats the best way to describe everyone at this stupid place. Doesn't help that most of them are from out of the country, trying to scrounge up some money to make their living here an iota better. The small buzzer in my headset let me know there was another car in the drive through.

"Welcome to Taco King," I said un-enthused. Probably another fatso with twenty items to order. "What can I get you today?" I asked as I finished pouring some fries into the deep fryer.

"Hey," they guy said pausing a moment. "I'll take the number three combo, medium, with a Dr. Paprika." At least the guy was decisive. "What you want?" he asked, probably talking to the other people in his car. I began to get started on the order, knowing that this guy wouldn't be changing anything so it'd be okay to get started. I barely could make out a mumbling voice, but could tell it was a girls. Without much effort, my mind but them together as a couple. And without much further effort, I thought back to Whitney. And without even meaning to, I thought about Caden.

"Shit," I muttered as I spilled the guy's Dr. Paprika all over in my sudden bout of anger.

"What was that?" the guy on the headset asked.

"Nothing. Will that be all?" I asked, trying to not get any angrier.

"Um, you said the number two, right Whitney?" I froze. No. It was a coincidence. A massive one. Wait, today was the day the got off for break. "Yeah, okay, a number two meal, _large_, and Serra Lime for the drink." I couldn't deal with this. I pushed the button on my headset that would transfer them to another person. Screw the damn commission.

* * *

**Whitney 'Whitnea' Elsworth**

"Hello?" Caden asked after a moment, clearly confused.

"Welcome to Taco King, may I take your order?" a new voice asked, puzzling us both.

"What happened to the other guy?" I asked Caden, rubbing my arms a little at the chill coming in through the open window.

"What happened to the guy who was taking our order?" Caden asked the woman who was now speaking with us.

"He spilled some soda and couldn't take your order. Are you ready to order?" she asked again.

"Um, sure. A number three meal, medium, Dr. Paprika, and a number two meal, _large_," Caden drawled again, swinging his head back at me with mock flourish. "And a Serra Lime with that," he finished. After the woman receiving our order successfully repeated it back to us we pulled forward. Caden kept giving me a sideways glance with a small smirk.

"What?" I asked finally as we waited behind two other cars.

"A large?" he asked accusingly.

"Something wrong with wanting a little extra food?"

"No, no, you're totally entitled to whatever quantity of food you want, it's just... A large?" he asked his smile only growing. I realized he was just trying to get a rise out of me. Time to turn the tables.

"You think I'm fat?" I said, feigning hurt the best I could. He totally bought it.

"What?! No! I uh..." I totally had him. "Your not fat, Whitney," he said with as much authority as he could. "You're beautiful just the way you are." Shit. That backfired. I immediately flared up with red as a heat wave passed over me that had nothing to do with the car's climate control. Luckily, before either of us could make a bigger fool of ourselves, we pulled up to the pick up widow. Caden silently took our meals and drinks, carefully handing me my order. We waited as the lady went back to get some napkins. "Sorry," he said while waiting.

"I was pulling your leg," I said after a moment of silence.

"Oh." The woman came back and gave us some napkins. "You're still beautiful," He half muttered as he began to pull forward. We were both too invested in looking at our meals in that moment to notice a disgruntled employee of Taco King glaring at us. Not that either of us had time for him anyways.

**AN: How about that last name for Chuck? Kinda... menacing, don't you think? I mean, it's a perfectly good name, if any of you have it, just... menacing. Cool. Have an AWESOME DAY!**


	8. -November 18th, 2010-

**AN: Dang, it's been a long time, hasn't it? This one has been sitting around half... a quarter done for about three months now. Finally wrote the other half... three quarters. Sorry about that lag.**

**-November 18****th****, 2010-**

* * *

**Kei 'Edge' Nagase**

The chime on my watch told me it had just turned midnight. The snowstorm from earlier had been clearing up and there was now enough of a clearing in the clouds to let me see some stars. I wondered what Caden was doing right now. Probably worrying himself sick. How could I have been so-

"You really should get some sleep, Miss," one of the helicopter pilots said. His buddy was already passed out, whether it was from exhaustion or pain though was anyones guess. He had nearly broken his leg as far as I could tell.

"You're friend going to be alright?" I asked, avoiding giving him an answer on my going to sleep.

"He can be bitchy as hell sometimes," the man began, looking at the man who we had placed against a tree opposite of himself. "But he's the closest thing I've got to family. Thanks for not leaving him behind."

"You kidding?" I asked. These two had talked about leaving themselves behind to increase my chance of survival like it was some kind of required action. Very Caden-like. After a little talk, they changed their tunes, though, probability more out of fear than a change in perspective. "I wouldn't be able to live myself if I left you two."

"Well, that very flattering Miss, but I somehow doubt those words are true." I just smirked a little and looked back up into the sky. Sure, it would've torn me up to leave the two behind, but ultimately, I had a vow to keep to myself.

* * *

**Allen 'Replicator' Hamilton**

"They're becoming a problem, Heimeroth."

"What do you want us to do, Hamilton?! We're a fighter squadron stationed in Yuktobania. We can't leave Yuktobania without a command to do so or we blow our cover. Why don't you talk to Bernitz? He's your guy over there, right?"

"He's proven himself less than effective," I said with an edge I was known for. "I'm giving you a chance to prove how effective you can be. I just sent you a frequency for an emergency locater of a downed pilot in Glubina. Give it to the right people and see to it that she's captured by the Yuktobanians. If they need incentive, tell them she's part of the squadron they're calling the 'Razgriz.'"

"How do I give this to them? To them, I'm a simple fighter pilot, I shouldn't be able to get this stuff!"

"You seemed to do just fine with the Osean presidents location," I reminded him. "Get it done." I put the phone down and straightened up my uniform. This repulsive Osean uniform. Only a while longer. The plan was almost complete, it was just encountering… resistance. Though I was reluctant to admit it, the new members of Wardog were quite capable pilots. I still hadn't given up on the hope of recruiting Caden Irving to the cause, but as long as his rather unprofessional interest in Kei Nagase continued, he wouldn't be swayed. But if Kei were to fall into 'enemy' hands, Caden would be quite vulnerable to manipulation. And, if Heimeroth proved effective at capturing the pilot, I saw a possibility of even getting Nagase to unwittingly work towards our ultimate goal.

"Major Hamilton, report to my office immediately." I involuntarily scowled and curled my hands into fists at the noise of the base commanders voice. The epitome of what an Osean was. When this assignment had first begun, it had only been about the glory of Belka. Now, it had bonus objectives. If this whole thing with Nagase worked the way I planed for it to, Perrault's demise would be one of the talking points I would bring up with Caden.

* * *

**Anton 'болван' Trovski**

"Trovski, what are you doing! Keep up with the unit you болван!"

"Да, Commander," I replied, ducking my head with shame and embarrassment. I swore I had seen movement, but now I was behind the unit and the commander was starting to get tired of my insolence. Suddenly, a deafening explosion from somewhere up in they sky caught my attention. And everyone else's. Our escort vehicle stopped along with all of us that were on the ground around it. I looked up and saw another bright fireball but before the sound could even reach us, another bright flash occurred followed by another that came just as the first explosion made it to my ears.

"Four planes in rapid succession," one of our pilots announced, a jealous awe in his transmission.

"Shit... They're here," another one said, his voice low and filled with dread.

"Find that downed pilot!" My commander shouted with renewed vigor and… was it terror in his voice? We picked up our pace and brought everyone out of the transport to put more eyes on the situation.

"Trovski," my buddy Makar began. "You think those were the guys?"

"Who?" I asked. Though I already knew who he was talking about. The Demons. I didn't want to be the one who said their name. Everyone knew that just saying the name would bring misery upon you.

"The Razgriz," Makar said, committing the taboo and instantly earning the heated stare of everyone in the company.

"Makar!" the Commander yelled out, the hint of terror still hiding in his voice.

"Да, Commander!" Makar replied, his face as white as the snow around us.

"It seems Yefim is tired of being point! How kind of you to volunteer to take his position for a while!"

"It's my honor, Commander!" Makar replied obediently, though we all knew that even the cold wasn't enough for the amount of shivering he was doing. Sometimes, it wasn't the Demons who brought you the misery.

I could still hear the roar of the fighter planes and part of me was convinced they were getting closer. I had to take a piss or risk doing it in my pants. Making sure the Commanders attention was else where, I darted off into some trees to relieve myself. A few moments later and I felt much more at ease. Until I realized I had company. Before I could even react, the woman in front of me had pulled a small pistol from somewhere and had it trained on me. I valued my life and instantly put my arms up.

We just looked at each other, neither of us speaking. I quickly checked behind her to notice she had two men with her, though one seemed to be injured. I flicked my eyes back at her and continued the intense stare off.

"If you cry out, I shoot," the woman began, cold and hard, an authority in her voice that made the Commander seem like a friendly ally cat. "If you move, I shoot. If you say something I don't like, I shoot twice. Who are you searching for?"

"A downed pilot," I replied quickly, not taking my eyes off of the muzzle of the gun.

"Just one?"

"I was told only one mattered, a fighter pilot. Which one is him?" I asked, nodding to the two men behind her.

"I ask the questions," the woman said dangerously as she cocked the pistol. "And the fighter pilot you're looking for, they're not a 'him'. They're a 'her'." One of the Demon's was a woman?!

"You're one of the Demons?!" I asked, unbelieving. Like lightning, the woman pulled something from another one of her pockets, it looked to be a rolled up pair of extra socks, and placed it over her gun barrel. Splinters suddenly stuck the back of my neck and I realized she had just shot the tree behind me.

"I. Ask. The questions." I just nodded in fear, looking at the small woman who was so terrifying. "Why did Yuktobania start the war?" I let out an involuntary sigh before I realized I was being held at gunpoint.

"I don't know," I quickly answered truthfully. The womans face suddenly had a display of confusion before she slipped back into her authoritative grimace.

"What was the sigh for?" she demanded.

"We are… unsure about what war is for," I tried as best as I could. While we were all taught some of the language Osea used, it didn't mean we were proficient in it. Before the woman could ask another question, an Osean aircraft buzzed right over us, no more than a few hundred feet off the ground.

"Blaze!" the woman in front of me cried out, a strange sense of joy in her voice despite her circumstance. I then realized she was distracted. I moved as quickly as I could, dodging towards a nearby thicket of trees to put obstacles between me and the woman. I heard thunks behind me as her muffled bullets struck trees near me. I then felt a searing pain on my right leg and stumbled into the snow. The ground near my left thigh began to stain bright red as I struggled through the ten centimeter powder. I heard no more shots coming after me and cursed myself as I struggled to make my way towards where my group had been heading.

* * *

**Kei 'Edge' Nagase**

That was too close. Here I am always after Caden about being careless and I go and… Well, technically, it was his fault. And he was being careless too with flying that low. But that was him! He had come for me! Of course, I never doubted he would come, but they had been coming too. I had been fearful that I would be captured and would have only known the intimately challenged side of Caden. Now that I knew how quickly things could change, and hopefully he realized it too, we could show each other our more personal selves.

"Where'd you learn that thing with the socks?" one of the men behind me asked, his partner too slack jawed to say anything.

"I think it was on a movie I saw once." I said, amazed myself it had worked yet also embarrassed at the admission. "Who knew, right?"

**AN: The sock thing is something I completely made up. Don't try it unless you're the Mythbusters. Also, kudos to you if you got the reference with Hamilton's nickname/call-sign. If you already knew or inferred it, double kudos. So, I've got maybe two suggestions that I'm working on right now, but if you guys have more or ones you think I may have forgotten, please let me know/remind me! My little break after writing CotS is at an end now, so let me see some of those suggestions. Stay awesome!**


	9. -May 18th, 2009-

**-May 18****th****, 2009-**

**Petra 'Ice Queen' Abels**

"Abels, you wanna hear a joke about pizza?"

"Yovan, stop, you're making me hungry."

"You're right, it was too cheesy anyways." Despite my foul mood, I couldn't hold back the snicker that escaped my lips.

"Oh? What was that? Did I hear the Ice Queen laugh?"

"No," I said quickly, steeling my voice back to it's original hardness. I had a reputation to uphold, no matter how contradictory it was. At least, to me it was contradictory. To everyone around me, the call sign 'Ice-Queen' was a more accurate description than 'human female'. Remus Yovan was probably the only person at this command who knew the real me, making the farce we were playing all the more difficult.

"Hum, that is strange. I could've sworn there was a sound strangely similar to a snort."

"Second Lieutenant Yovan, are you trying to flirt with the Ice Queen?" our flight controller finally asked. The bluntness of the question caused both our planes to momentarily wobble for a moment. "I don't care what you do while off duty, but right now, you're working for the Royal Nordlandic Air Force. Try and focus a little, yeah?"

"Besides," another operator began, deciding to partake in the momentary break of the usual monotony that Air Patrols usually entailed by adding his two cents. "Everyone knows Second Lieutenant Abels didn't get a call sign like Ice Queen for no reason."

"If we're handing out call-signs biased off of how people handle requests of courtship around here," I drawled, silencing the channel for a moment. "Then a significant proportion of the male population would be 'Disturbingly Desperate.'" There was a long pause of silence before our controller decided a change in topics was in order.

"Right then. Patrol RNAF-821, you're time on station is coming to it's conclusion. Patrol RNAF-822 will be by in five to relieve you."

"RNAF-821 copies," Remus responded. The comms were silent for another couple of moments before my wing mate tried speaking again, this time having the wisdom to use a private channel. "Everything alright, Petra? You seem especially… sharp today." Remus was always watchful with what words he used around me. He knew that I had a sore spot when it came to the nickname and subsequent call-sign I had earned here.

"They denied my transfer. Again." I had been trying for a month now to get transferred to a new base. One where I could hopefully start over. My reputation was too entrenched here to have such dreams. But would a change in location really matter?

I knew there would be obstacles for me as a woman that my father hadn't faced when I decided to enter military service. But this was beginning to become a real problem. Everywhere I went, ridiculous requests that could be passed off as jokes were made and it was starting to get to the point where I wanted to report something. But doing that… that carried labels all on its own as well.

So far, only Remus had treated me as nothing more than a fellow pilot. Sure, there were times like just a few moments ago where his friendliness could be seen as flirting to someone who didn't know better, but between the two of us, it was nothing more than light teasing, a welcome break compared to the heavy innuendos used by some of my other male 'comrades.' The only thing that had worked at cutting the disturbing comments down was my cold public appearance. However, that didn't stop conversations from happening behind my back.

"Hang in there," Remus said," pulling me back from my thoughts. "I've been doing some digging around since the last time you requested. I had a feeling this might happen again so I took some initiative."

"Oh? Look at you being all proactive," I teased.

"Hey, even I can be serious when I try," my wing mate replied. "Anyways, turns out there's a special form you can fill out after three rejected transfers. There's a bunch of limitations on it and stuff, but I'm pretty sure you fit the bill."

"What is it? Where can I find it?" I asked anxiously.

"It's hidden in some thick book called ROYNORAFADMANINST 8100.2."

"What does that even stand for?" I asked, nearly laughing despite my anxiousness continuing to build. I still find it funny at how convoluted the military can be with all it's paperwork.

"Um, Royal Nordlandic Air Force Administrative Manual Instruction. I think. But what matters is that there's a form in there that's better known as the 'Dream Maker.' It can only be used once in your career and only after three consecutive transfer rejections, and blada-blada-bla, but it basically allows a member to submit a transfer request that can't be denied." I was silent for a moment, almost disbelieving the pure… convenience of such a document.

"You'd better not be pulling my leg," I threatened.

"On something like this, I wouldn't," Remus replied, his usual teasing tone gone. I was about to sing my praises to the man before a transmission came over the general use frequency.

"RNAF-821, this is 822. We are on station and ready to assume duties."

"Thanks 822," Remus responded. "Try not to fall asleep."

"Roger that," the flight replied as we began to head back towards the airfield. I was still silent as my mind tried to process the strange hopeful feeling in my chest.

"Huh, that's weird," Remus suddenly said. "Tower, I'm getting a friendly radar spike, what's going on?

"Hold one," the tower replied curtly. In the transmission, I heard multiple muttering voices in the background, putting me on edge. "Shit! Flight 821, take evasive maneuvers! We've got a malfunctioning SAM!"

"A what!?" Remus exclaimed before a warning tone began to blare over the speakers in my cockpit. Judging by the sharp move left my wing mate suddenly made, he too got the warning. My searching eyes quickly spotted two trails of white smoke streaking towards us.

"Yovan! Evade! Incoming missiles, twelve and low!" I shouted out, sharply pulling up and applying full thrust. My fuel state wasn't great after a full length patrol, but I needed every pound of thrust the Gripen I was in could produce. I jinked and looped in desperation as the missile tone continued to blare, drowning out any other sounds and thoughts. I didn't pull back on the thrust or let up on the stick until the annoying tone went away. And then there was silence. A deathly silence.

"Yovan?" I called out, not spotting my wing mate in the airspace around me. "Yovan, where are you at? What's your status?"

"Abels…" my flight controller began, his voice too somber and heavy for my liking. In that moment, I knew, but didn't want to accept. I continued to search the airspace around me desperately but didn't find another Gripen, only a thick black smoke trail leading to a burning pile.

**-Olson 'Knack' Holmes-**

"HQ, this is operative Knack. Virus was a success."

"The program worked?"

"Yeah, the SAM went into fully autonomous mode and ignored IFF. Controls were locked out for a solid ten minutes. Circuits toasted themselves too."

"This is even better than expected. I'll let them know that this batch is a keeper. Your cover still in tact?"

"Of course."

"Good, good. We'll be transferring you to Osea soon. Probably Crevalle. We need someone who'll be able to upload this gem into their SAM network over there when the time comes."

"Will it be soon?"

"Not soon enough if you ask me. Replicator is saying the time is coming though."

"He's always saying that."

"Give the man some slack. He's been over there a while having to deal with that filth directly. He wants this to happen more than most of us can even comprehend."

"Whatever. I'll lay low and be waiting for the transfer request."

"Copy. For our future."

"For our future."

**AN: Hello. How's it been? Excuse me while I brush these cobwebs off my computer. So, it's been a while, huh? I've been busy with life and military stuff, but for right now, and I literally mean these next couple of hours, I've got some free time. Decided to restart my writing with another addition to this lovely little thing. My other stories might be a little slow at updates as well, so try to not hate me for that to much. Anyways, tell me what you think. I know something like this may be a little heavy for me to return with but it was requested by ilMaestroAmadio, so... Anyways, hope you guys have an Awesome day, week or month. Take your pick, you can't have them all. Until next time, stay Awesome people!  
**


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